The Mala Suerte Chronicles
by The Petulant Prodigy
Summary: "Playing the game is part of the game," he said with a smirk, "Anyone can play the game, but only one may win the game. The game has only one rule." "What is it?" Ichigo asked. The man smirked again, "No mercy." AU Yaoi. Unavoidable OOC. Multiple pairings
1. Prologue in the Sand

**-The Mala Suerte Chronicles-**

Part 1. Prologue in the Sand.

…...

_"The City looks so pretty do you wanna burn it with me?" –Hollywood Undead_

…...

The building is abandoned. For now. The walls are aged and peeling and most of the windows no longer hold glass. Wind whips through the abandoned apartment. No one has lived in it for at least a decade. The wooden furniture is broken, and the one redeeming couch is missing its cushions. Black X's spray-painted on the walls. He doesn't know what they mean, but he doesn't have to worry about them right now.

After all, it was only his first day in Las Noches.

Las Noches, the one place on the planet so royally fucked that even the devil turns his face away. And that was why he was there, wasn't it? Because of a crime he hadn't committed?

The trial had been a joke. He'd been covered in thick silver chains, standing in a cage. Yes, a fucking cage, like what was used for shark diving. The judge had looked down at him from his high pedestal of power, his baldhead shining, his long white beard trailing down as he read off legal formalities that he hadn't cared to listen to. The man had looked so fucking old Ichigo had wondered if he cut the bastard's throat, would dust fall out?

Judge Yamamoto had practically screamed his sentence after Ichigo had screamed and raved over the bogus charges, pleading 'not guilty'.

He'd been dumped in the barren wasteland hours later by armed guards. They'd pointed their semi-automatics inches from his face as one black-clothed guard had removed his handcuffs and leg shackles, throwing him a small black backpack.

"Your provisions," he scoffed, his helmet hiding his eyes, "This is as far as we take you. Keep heading south: you'll know when you get there."

Ichigo's rage had been taken out of him by this time. He had been too exhausted from slamming himself around his cell for the past three days awaiting his trial and the additional hours in the back of the heavily-armed black army vehicle.

It drove away from him, dust spitting up into the air and making his eyes itch as he took a look inside his backpack.

A small empty silver canteen.

A box of matches.

A standard army-issued pocket knife.

A wet nap. (Seriously? What sick fuck had planted that?)

A package of salted crackers.

A length of rope.

A neatly-packaged waterproof tarp blanket.

That was it. Nothing else. Thankfully they'd allowed him to change back into the clothes he had been wearing before his abduction and absurd trial: worn-out black Converse, a pair of loose-fitting beige cargo pants with multiple zippers, a studded black and silver belt, his favorite washed-out blue vintage tee, and a hooded black jacket lined in fake white fur around the hood that his sister Karin had given to him for Christmas six days ago.

He could see his breath float out in front of him. Karin had literally saved his ass.

He slipped the backpack on his shoulders before running his fingers over the metal collar the army droids hadn't taken off. He had known they wouldn't, but it still bothered him. It wasn't tight, just a nuisance. A thick metal ring with a link that jingled slightly, much like a dog collar. He knew it had to have some kind of microscopic chip in it to track him as the new and ambitious psychotic government was paranoid like that. In his microscopic cell in the jail, he'd seen the printed black writing on the edge of the collar in the sliver of mirror that had been on the wall: KI15. VIZARD.

He rolled his eyes remembering it. That's the word the judge had kept flinging around, what had made the jury's eyes get either large in fear or squinted in concentrated anger.

And here he was, serving out a sentence in a place that would make people think jail was a five star hotel.

There wasn't even a guarantee that he would survive here. Anybody shipped off to Las Noches was never heard from again.

Everybody whispered stories, and a lot of people had actually been in on what actually went down in Las Noches. It wasn't good.

Las Noches was mostly wasteland, but at its center was a city that had been decimated during the Last Great Winter War. Most buildings were still standing, but the land was still covered in mines, barbed wire, and other nasty gadgets the new government had devised for victory. Welcome to the New Order of Japan.

In the city was supposedly the old governor's estate, a giant mansion that had been pretty much untouched from the invasion. That was where Ichigo would have to go to get answers about his new way of life.

He just had to make sure that he didn't get killed on the way. After all, this was a hell pit that had no rules, and those condemned to Las Noches were what the government deemed as the most dangerous. Only those that the government did not intend to incorporate back into society were sent here.

Ichigo was eighteen years old. He'd never committed a crime in his entire life. He had gone to school and gotten good grades and kept his mouth shut as the government was torn down and rebuilt, while people were killed and soldiers were storming and invading people's homes. He'd known that a lot of people were disappearing, being interrogated, being imprisoned for stupid and petty reasons, but for them to abduct a teenager in the middle of the night…none of it made sense.

And a vizard? Impossible. He didn't believe in that crap. He didn't have any voodoo magic; he couldn't snap his fingers and shoot lightning, so what the hell was going on?

Maybe the new government had caught on to all the fighting he got into. Maybe all the punks he'd beaten the shit out of had ratted him out. _Yeah. Maybe that was it._

Ichigo ran a hand through his unruly and spiky orange hair, sighing as he looked up at the sky and studied the stars. _South. Got it._

One foot in front of the other. That was all it took. The night's inky blackness consumed his retreating form.

**XXX**

Approximately four hours and a gurgling stomach later, Ichigo was standing at the top of a white sand dune, staring down into the valley that blinked with life. Lights flared out all across the expanse of the dead city, although nearly half of the city was shadow. He could make out the piles of rubble and some of the buildings looked almost ancient. He'd had luck so far in not running into anyone, but this was where things got dicey.

He needed to make it to the governor's mansion. The guards had told him there'd be a man there who could 'instruct' him on how to survive in Las Noches, a mysterious man simply known as Aizen.

Ichigo had fought his way up the gigantic sand dune for that simple purpose, to make sure he could have the mansion in sight.

And damn was it in sight.

It was huge, the brightest and most exquisite building in the city. It was like a halo of life, a generator battery for the sickly-looking buildings surrounding it. It looked pristine, untouched, like a diamond on top of a pile of charcoal. It was on a raised hill, so that helped some, but Ichigo was still a far way off. If he was careful and didn't run into any trouble, he'd make it there by daybreak.

The moon was bright as Ichigo did his best to skirt down the sand dune, still marveling at how the sand could be so incredibly white. It was almost like snow, especially with the brightness of the crescent moon. Long white trees with naked branches greeted him as he approached the outskirts of the city, his eyes wary, his body tense. He'd taken the blade and put it in his palm, hoping he wouldn't have to use it. He had been in a dojo since the age of four and had always relied on his body and reflexes to protect him, but he couldn't ever be too cautious in this new environment.

The downside was that dying was common here. The upside was that there were no firearms. No guns, no bullets, basically all forms of higher technology. Apparently everyone was issued a knife when exiled, but Ichigo knew once he reached the mansion, there was more to learn.

There was one rumor he was dying to find out about, the one rumor that would be his ticket out of this hell pit for good.

The wind was cool as he walked down what Ichigo would call an alleyway, although the buildings on either side of him were crumbled messes. His footsteps sounded painfully loud to him. It was just that quiet.

He stopped. He heard it.

A growl.

Followed by a giggle.

"Looky looky," a childlike voice said somewhere from Ichigo's left. He pivoted, his body automatically falling into a defensive position from years of practice. His golden eyes searched a shadowy form. A short petite form that Ichigo would almost swear was feminine, but women were never exiled to Las Noches.

The form leaped lithely down from its perch in the remains of the side building, a hand on one cocked hip, his large purple eyes almost angelic, "Hiya, how's it goin', good lookin'?"

Ichigo remained silent as he studied the creature before him. The boy couldn't have been more than fifteen, his hair short and black and feathered out, his face heart-shaped with small lips that were currently exposing bleach white teeth. Sharp-looking bleach white teeth. Ichigo's eyes traveled quickly down his adversary's body, noticing the odd choice of clothing. Tight white shorts, booty shorts in Ichigo's opinion, with a tight white top that exposed most of his chest and navel with sleeves that reached to his hands, the look polished off with knee-high black boots tied intricately up the front. The silver collar identical to the one around Ichigo's own throat read AL08. ARRANCAR.

Ichigo took a step back as he heard another growl, knowing it wasn't coming from this AL08.

The stranger rolled his large purple eyes, turning towards the darkness from which he had come, "I know he looks delicious, but you're not gonna eat 'im!"

"What do you want?" Ichigo finally asked, his voice dark, his body still poised for action. This kid might look harmless, but he'd hate to be wrong.

The stranger turned back towards him, hands on his hips, his smile playful, "My name's Luppi, what's yours, cutie pie?"

Ichigo hated repeating himself, "What do you want?"

"So tense," Luppi drawled, taking a few steps forward as Ichigo took another step back, "I just wanna talk. Promise!"

Ichigo looked to the darkness behind Luppi, noticing two crimson eyes were staring back at him now.

"Don't mind her," AL08 said nonchalantly, waving his hand dismissively, "Just a pet I'm babysitting for tonight. Starrk's such a lazy bastard sometimes! Letting his demon wander around, not cool at all."

The 'pet' growled again, licking its chops as it stepped forward into the moonlight.

Ichigo's jaw wanted to unhinge, but he kept his jaw locked as he stared at the massive white wolf that was now standing to the side of the petite stranger, its head higher than Luppi by at least two feet. Ichigo imagined its paws were bigger than his head. He could easily ride the behemoth, although he had a feeling he would never get such an opportunity.

And had the kid just called it a demon?

The thing was staring at him as if he were a piece of raw meat for the taking, its jaws glistening with saliva.

"You're new," Luppi said in his high voice, cocking his head to the side, "Just got here, huh? You're still wearing clothes from the Outside."

Ichigo ran his eyes over the smaller boy's body again. If that was what was considered proper garb around here, no thanks. Although he had to admit the kid pulled the look off rather well. Ichigo hated to admit that he was cute.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," Luppi continued, batting his lashes, "unless you want me to, that is. I'm just a humble messenger of Aizen-sama, sent to bring in stragglers like you. You do wanna see Aizen-sama, don't you? You'll have a lot better chance of surviving if you do."

"Why should I trust you?"

"You shouldn't," he said cheerily, "You shouldn't trust anybody until you know they won't put a blade in your back, but I don't want to kill you. There's no point. You're too weak for me."

Looking at his adversary, Ichigo doubted it. This kid sure had ego issues, "So you'll take me to Aizen?"

Luppi nodded, "In the morning. It's safer during the day. Much safer."

Ichigo knew they were several hours from daylight, "What are we supposed to do until then?"

Ichigo didn't like the smirk on Luppi's face like he was thinking something completely different internally, "We find a hide out, somewhere safe to squat until I can take you. You need rest. You look exhausted."

Ichigo sighed, letting his body relax slightly, although he was still wary of his first stranger, "You're not going to try and kill me in my sleep?"

Luppi giggled, "Why would I do that when I can kill you while you're awake? It's so much more entertaining."

"You're very honest."

"Lying doesn't really do you any good here," Luppi said, springing forward and grabbing a hold of Ichigo's hand. He tensed, but the hand was so small and cold he couldn't help but be reminded of his younger twin sisters. He unconsciously squeezed the hand back and Luppi smiled warmly at him.

Ichigo stiffened, trying to draw his hand away but Luppi held him in a vice like grip, making Ichigo unsure of what he had just gotten himself into.

"There's an apartment a few blocks over that hasn't been used in ages. Nobody will bother us there," Luppi said, beginning to drag Ichigo along, the beast demon following silently behind them, "I'll take good care of you! No one's gonna lay a finger on you while you're with me, promise."

Ichigo allowed himself to be dragged along, too exhausted to not trust the younger boy at that moment. He knew he should be smarter, but all his adrenaline and energy was completely gone after the long night and his stomach was empty. He hadn't slept in two days.

So here he sat on the floor of the grubby apartment, thankful for his coat. The walls were a good windbreaker, but with the windows busted, the cold still managed to seep in. Luppi was curled up on a broken couch, his large eyes watching Ichigo as he began to nod off.

"Rest," Luppi commanded in a sweet voice, "I swear on my life nothing will happen to you while you sleep."

The white wolf huffed from the corner of the apartment, so large she had barely been able to fit through the doorways of the complex. Her giant head was resting on her paws, her tail curled to her side as she closed her large red eyes.

Ichigo blinked again, his head nodding to the side, "I don't know what I did to deserve this. I didn't do anything."

Luppi smiled sadly at him, "You were born, KI15. All of us were."

Ichigo didn't stay conscious long enough to argue.

**XXX**

Luppi watched the berry head for the next hour until he was absolutely positive the child was out cold. He moved quickly and silently to his side, laying him down flat on the floor so that he didn't have to stay in such an uncomfortable position sitting up against the wall.

And Luppi had wanted to get a close up since he'd run into the strawberry hunk. His raptor vision allowed him to see crystal clear in the darkness.

The berry breathed softly, his face relaxed, making him that much more handsome. High cheekbones, a proud forehead, a long straight nose and a light dusting of cinnamon colored freckles across the tops of his cheekbones and nose. Luppi wanted to lick them to see if they tasted like cinnamon.

He reached out to trace a pale finger against the black letters stamped into the metal collar around the berry's neck, sucking on his bottom lip. He wondered how long the boy would last in this place. If he chose to participate in Adjucha, his time would be shortened dramatically. Luppi had a feeling the kid would enter: he looked like a fighter, a determined youth desperate for freedom.

It was adorable and admirable at the same time.

"We'll see," Luppi sighed, returning to his place on the dilapidated couch.

Luppi wasn't going to place any bets yet: he hadn't seen the youth in action, didn't know what he was capable of.

As soon as his eyes had caught the word VIZARD, he had known Aizen-sama would be very, very interested in the newest addition to Las Noches. He knew Aizen would want to make him a pet. Aizen always loved to destroy pretty things, but pretty things with power were his obsession.

Luppi continued to watch the berry for the remainder of the dark hours as Starrk's demon growled in her sleep.

**XXX**

The man fell to his knees in the white sand, blood spurting as it escaped from his shoulder. His blade arm had been cut clean off.

The blade that had done so was suddenly in his chest. He shuddered as he moaned in pain and fear, the blade twisting as it was removed, blood now beginning to pour out of the wound and out of his mouth. He would bleed out in a matter of minutes, be dead in less.

He should have known better. He and the five other men should have known better. He had tried to play dirty, all of them laying in wait, ready to ambush, to overwhelm and surprise, to take his weapons and provisions before he even knew what had hit him.

They had been so blind.

And now he was paying for it in blood.

"Who…are…you?" he gurgled, gravity the only thing keeping him upright as his life drained away.

Lightning blue eyes stared down at him. Even in the dark they shined like a predator's with the reflective sheen of a cat, "It doesn't matter. You're dead."

The man managed to smile before he died. He was absolutely right.

**XXX**

6 wiped his blade clean with one motion on his white pants, uncaring of the stain. He could feel his enemy's blood in his hair, sliding down his neck and chest. He hated when it began to harden underneath his metal neck collar. It would itch if he didn't clean himself up soon.

The sky was purple around the edges, preparing for the sun that came with day. He sheathed Pantera on his back, standing up straight, alive amongst a small pool of death. The few bodies lay silent, their blood sickly sweet in his nostrils, the copper tang in the back of his throat. He loved it. He loved creating death.

He left the bodies where they lay, not bothering to check them for provisions or weapons. Anything they had was useless to him. He'd been in Las Noches long enough to have acquired everything he needed to survive, and if he hadn't, he had learned how and where to get it.

"Mah mah," a whispery voice said from the shadows. A tall and beautifully pale male stepped into the moonlight, his silver hair appearing to be made of moving mercury due to the lighting. He wore an ensemble of black leather pants, high black laced boots, and a black shirt fitted to his frame. A long white coat trailed after him, billowing in the wind. The metal collar around his neck was stamped IG13, the link on the collar jingling as a crimson red metal disk had been attached, announcing his participation in Adjucha. His eyes were hidden as he smiled, "They weren't even participatin', Sexta. Ya sure love to make a bloody mess."

6 glared at his comrade, the one person in all of Las Noches he had come to trust. They had an alliance of sorts, considering they had been in Las Noches for about the same amount of time. They'd managed to survive together for over two years, a fucking huge accomplishment for such a dangerous place. Most were lucky to survive a month.

Now they were among the top predators and the others were sheep.

"They got in my way," 6 said, looking back at one of the freshly dead bodies, "They're all the same, Adjucha or not."

The fox-faced man smirked, opening his eyes to reveal shiny light blue eyes, the pupils slit vertically like a cat's, "Then they deserved it, ne?"

6 watched 13 begin to walk away, his white coat catching in the wind again, fluttering wildly, the silver hair beginning to float as if he were underwater, "Time fer rest, lil' kitty."

6 began walking after him, watching the silver form reshape, 13 shifting into his alternate demon form. The silver-haired fox was large and sleek, intelligent slit ice blue eyes regarding his ally, his white teeth exposed in a sly grin.

The metal collar gleamed in the moonlight. _IG13. WARLOCK._

The cold air soothed 6's skin as they headed toward their resting place.

[prologue/end.]


	2. Demons in the Sand

**-The Mala Suerte Chronicles-**

Part 2. Demons in the Sand.

….

_'It will have blood, they say; blood will have blood.' –William Shakespeare_

….

Ichigo woke with a start, gasping when he opened his eyes. The white wolf demon's crimson eyes were on him, her jaws open, revealing her elongated white teeth and a lolling tongue. The tongue was split down the middle like a snake's, her eyes still focused on his face.

It was the worst way to wake up. Ever.

"Ah, you're awake," came Luppi's sing-song voice as he scampered into the room with a black messenger bag strapped to his side, "Lillynette, give the kid some space, will 'ya? You won't make any friends that way."

The wolf huffed in irritation, taking a few steps away from Ichigo and sitting up straight, her head held high, her ears straight. Why did she hate him so much?

"Sorry about that," Luppi sighed, opening the bag and piling the contents on the floor between the two unlikely comrades, "she never acts like this around weaklings. You must be one powerful dude."

"Is she going to eat me?" Ichigo asked seriously, sending a wary look over to the demon.

It growled.

"Nah, I don't think so. She's just scared," Luppi answered, smirking at Ichigo as he opened a package of liquid.

Ichigo did a double take. It looked like… "Is that a blood bag?"

"Mm-hm," Luppi answered, already sucking on the contents through the hole he had created. His giant purple eyes seemed darker, "I'm an Arrancar, kid. Wha'd'ya expect me to eat? Unless you're gonna let me nibble on you. I wish you would. Urahara charges an arm and a leg for this shitty synthetic."

"So you're, what? A vampire?" Ichigo said, hoping he didn't sound freaked out. He was still trying to convince himself that this whole situation was a bad dream. He was still hoping to wake up at home in his cozy bed and write this whole fantasy off as a bad subconscious experience.

Luppi giggled, finished with his bag of blood, licking his lips, "Looks like there's a lot you're going to need to learn if you're going to survive around here, huh? You really have never heard of Arrancars before?"

Ichigo shook his head side to side, wondering if he stabbed the kid with his pocket knife if he'd have a chance of making an escape. Not likely. Not when there was a motherfucking wolf bigger than him sitting only a few feet away. A DEMON wolf, no less.

Luppi rolled his eyes dramatically, "It's just what we eat. You eat mangos, we eat blood. Simple."

"Not simple," Ichigo replied.

Luppi rolled his eyes again, pointing at his exposed mouth, "I suppose Arrancar are the reason there are vampire legends, but the only similarity is the diet. Okay, maybe we have more strength, more speed and can see better in the dark, but other than that, we're just like you. Well, not like YOU, since you're a vizard, but like humans, I suppose. We don't choose how we're born, do we? That's why we're here in the first place, because of WHAT WE ARE, not WHO WE ARE."

Ichigo's brow furrowed as he studied Luppi's face. He seemed genuine, "Everyone here…everyone here is like us?"

"Well, most of 'em," Luppi said, tapping his chin with a pointer finger, "There's quite a few humans that are here simply for being murderers and breakers of the law, but the rest are either Arrancar or your typical Soul Reaper. There're a smattering of demons, or hybrids, a warlock or two…"

"Soul Reaper?"

"You really are dense. What, did your parents raise you under a rock?" Luppi said, pulling his knees to his chest as he threw a package of chips at Ichigo with a quick hand, "You've never heard stories? Legends, maybe? You've gotta believe at least one of 'em, ne? I bet you believed in them when you were a little kid."

"I've heard stories from my dad about Soul Reapers, but…of course I never thought all of this would be real."

"That's why the government sent you here. That's why we're all here: to be wiped out, forgotten, blotted off of the map of existence while people are in denial. The New Order won't even give us a chance to assimilate. It doesn't matter, though: almost all of my kind is dead. There're only a handful of us left, and the Espada are even more rare…"

"Espada?"

Luppi's smile was almost unnerving, "Something higher up the food chain. Arrancar eat humans and Espada eat Arrancar. Scary, yeah? They eat Soul Reapers too; it's about the absorption of power, of spiritual energy and soul. Complicated, I know, but that's the best you're gonna get."

"No wonder you're all going extinct," Ichigo said, opening his package of potato chips and beginning to eat, "You're all too busy eating each other."

Luppi scoffed, "We don't HAVE to. Obviously I haven't eaten you yet."

"And you won't," Ichigo said darkly.

"Probably not," Luppi laughed, "Anyways, you're a Vizard, yeah? You should be able to keep up around here. You're far better off than the humans, anyway."

"I AM human."

"Only partially," Luppi said, lifting a brow, "but even I'm not stupid enough to try and eat a Vizard. You smell different than the other ones I've come across, though. Wonder what your mask looks like…"

Ichigo kept silent, not knowing what to say. Of course everything Luppi had said so far sounded like it came right out of a fantasy fiction novel, but he couldn't deny all the stories his father had told him since he was old enough to listen and remember. And the dreams he had, the dreams that involved a white skull mask and blood, laughter and cold fingers and black eyes with golden slits…

_GOOD TA BE HOME._

Ichigo dropped his bag of potato chips at the ghostly voice in his head. He hadn't heard it in a while. Usually it only spoke to him when he was being threatened or fighting, giving him ideas, pushing him over the edge. He'd never told anyone about it, no one, not even his best friends. He had always thought that would earn him a trip to the mental institution, and with how the new zealous government was carrying on at the moment, he knew those people wouldn't fair off much better either.

"Your eyes look funny," Luppi commented, coming closer and leaning down into his face, making the voice in his head cackle.

_YOU SHOULD SMASH 'IM, KING. CRACK THAT LIL' HEAD OPEN LIKE A FRESH WATERMELON, NE?_

"Shut up," Ichigo growled, making Luppi take a step back.

"I didn't mean anything by it," Luppi said, sticking out his bottom lip, hands on his hips, "Just…they looked different, got darker, is all. You mad at me?"

_KILL HIM!_

"No," Ichigo said aloud, earning a head tilt from the little Arrancar.

"Good," Luppi said cheerily, beginning to shove the few packages of food and bottles of water into Ichigo's bag, "Got these for you in case you get hungry before we reach Aizen. I'll show you the reliable place to get food around here. It'll cost you, and he's a little shady, but he's usually a decent guy who can get you pretty much anything you want."

"How can I pay him? I don't have any money," Ichigo said matter-of-factly.

Luppi grinned, "Money is whatever you want it to be, but the quickest way is through blood or tags. Urahara's always in business if you have either of those commodities."

Ichigo stood up with his bag, shifting his weight to his other leg as he regarded Luppi, "I'm not gonna let some wacko drain my blood for a package of cookies."

"I didn't say it had to be your blood, did I?" Luppi said, wandering over to the white wolf and petting the thick fur around its neck, "You're forgetting where you are, 15. This is a different world."

"Blood and…tags," Ichigo repeated to himself, following the retreating demon form, "What are tags?"

Luppi giggled, the sound echoing off of the empty stairwell, "You'll find out today. I'll let Aizen tell you all about it."

**XXX**

They had been walking for a little over an hour when Luppi suddenly stiffened, his purple eyes looking around in worry.

"What's wrong?" Ichigo asked quietly, his body also going into alert mode. He'd pulled his hoodie jacket up to conceal his hair per instruction of Luppi earlier who'd said it would attract all kinds of unwanted attention.

"The Punishers," Luppi whispered back, exposing his fangs even though he looked worried. He grabbed Ichigo's arm and pulled him to the side of the alleyway, shoving him behind a rusted dumpster covered in graffiti, "Stay here. Don't move."

"Wait," Ichigo hissed, but Luppi was already gone.

In the next minute, Ichigo heard heavy footsteps and what sounded like chains being dragged across the ground.

"Nah, Kenpachi, ya smell that?" a young male voice said, the footsteps stopping what must have been about one hundred feet away.

"Yah," a deep, guttural voice replied, followed by the sound of a sword being unsheathed, "Smells like'a lil' kitty, don't'cha think, Renji?"

The Renji person laughed darkly, "Come out come out wherever you are. We don't wanna hurt the kitty, jus' play a lil' bit."

"Oi, there he is."

Ichigo stiffened, fearing discovery but instead he heard Luppi's giggle.

"Heyya, boys," he said conversationally, obviously exposing himself to the two unknown men, "How was the hunt today?"

"Not bad for the morning," Renji said, dragging chains again followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the pavement, "Just caught this one about an hour ago cheatin'. Ya know how we don't like cheatin', kitty."

"What'cha doin' in the slums?" Kenpachi growled, "Yer never in this part'a the city. What're you up to, kitty?"

"Nothin'," Luppi said silkily, "Just enjoying my morning. Haven't come across anyone worth killing yet."

"You been by Urahara's?" Renji said, the sound of shaking chains heard again, "We're takin' 'im there now. How much ya think he'll give us for this?"

"Hmm. He looks young. If ya let me have a taste, I can tell you the quality…"

"Nuh-uh. Yer fangs'll leave marks and then he won't give us shit."

"Unless you two haven't noticed, he's covered in blood. What'd you do? Bludgeon his brains in?"

They cackled, making Ichigo's spine tingle and the voice in his mind howl with laughter.

_I LIKE 'EM, KING. I LIKE 'EM A LOT._

"He tried to run. I love it when they run," Kenpachi said darkly as Renji laughed again.

"You're the Punishers. Of course they're going to run," Luppi said.

"Yer right. How come you never run, kitty?" Renji said silkily, making Ichigo wonder what exactly was going on.

"Because it's not your job to kill the innocent. I've been playing by the rules."

"Ya' know, we don't follow everythin' Aizen says."

Ichigo's eyes widened slightly as he heard Luppi struggle and the chuckles from the strangers made his skin crawl.

"Hey kitty," Renji asked, "How 'bout you use that cute lil' tongue a'yers? If 'ya do it right, I won't cut it off."

"Stop," Luppi rasped, obviously struggling, "Don't…"

"The kitty's givin' us orders," Kenpachi grunted, "I think I need to teach it a lesson."

"Good idea," Renji howled, "Bad neko neko neko-chan~!"

Ichigo closed his eyes when he heard Luppi begin to whimper as one of them, or possibly both of them, began to slap Luppi repeatedly, followed by the sounds of more struggling and the rattling of those unseen chains.

Ichigo clenched his fists as he heard Luppi scream, a scream so loud that it forced Ichigo into action.

He sprang up from behind the dumpster, making his way around to face off the strangers, "Get away from him."

He had practically growled it, the strangers turning their attention to him. One of the men was huge, a beast of a man with black hair in thick spikes around his head with what looked like little bells attached. A long, jagged scar was down the side of his face, his silver eyes boring into Ichigo, his teeth serated. He wore long black pants and a white fitted wife beater that was currently speckled in blood, his silver neck collar rattled with a gold-colored disk attached to a chain that was attached to the man's belt. He held a gigantic metal pipe with one hand and had it resting on his shoulder like a baseball bat, "Oi, Renji, whadda'we got here?"

Ichigo's entire body felt cold as he realized the other stranger was on his knees, his cock buried to the hilt inside of Luppi whose face was pressed into the sandy pavement, blood and tears mingling as Renji rocked his hips.

Renji turned his eyes on Ichigo. Ichigo had never seen someone quite like him before. Crimson red hair was long and ran past his shoulders, his hooded red jacket unzipped and exposing a sculpted torso covered in black tribal tattoos. The tattoos continued down his arms, neck, and even along his eyebrows. His pants were still on, covered in chains and little circular discs that rattled every time he moved. A thick silver chain was wrapped around one of his arms from his wrist to his elbow, one end clasped to the metal neck collar of the dead man they had been talking about the entire time and the other end had a sickle-like blade attached that gleamed in the sunlight. Renji's other hand was pulling on Luppi's collar, making Luppi stop struggling and fall still to avoid having his air cut off again.

Renji laughed as he pumped into Luppi again, making Luppi scream anew, "A newbie! A newbie a newbie a newbie! Get 'im, Kenny~! Get 'im!"

**XXX**

"Fresh meat," Kenpachi said, taking a few steps toward Ichigo, licking his lips, "Come 'ere, kitty."

The man was huge, towering over Ichigo by at least eight inches. He was broad, too big to hope to overcome. Ichigo could hear Luppi's struggling screams, realizing he was telling Ichigo to run even as he himself was being raped in an abandoned alleyway.

Ichigo clenched his fists. No, he wasn't going to run from these psychopaths.

Kenpachi came even closer, the metal pipe tapping against his shoulder in impatience, Kenpachi's face gleeful, "I'mma break ya, brat."

Ichigo felt a coppery taste in the back of his throat as he bit his own tongue, his vision going blurry.

_GET 'IM, KING. GET 'IM._

He heard Kenpachi laugh as he swung his metal pipe hard without any warning, sending it into Ichigo's side, knocking the breath from him as he catapulted into a brick wall, slamming his head hard.

He crumpled to the ground, feeling warm blood on the back of his skull as he tried to stand up again, failing. His breathing was off, his eyes hurt, his head hurt. Everything was on fire.

_COME ON, COME ON! YOU'RE WEAK, KING! FUCKIN' FIGHT, OR I WILL!_

Ichigo shuddered, the fire crawling up his spine as Kenpachi neared him, putting a hand around his throat and raising him only to push him up against the wall, holding him so far off the ground his feet found nothing but air.

He started to squeeze, cutting off Ichigo's air as he leaned in and licked the side of his face.

"Didn' know ya were so cute underneath that hoodie," Kenpachi chuckled, "Never seen hair so orange. Ya got freckles too."

The voice in Ichigo's head was fuming, letting out guttural, animalistic shrieks that had Ichigo's body shaking.

He was shaking. He was shaking with rage.

_Kill. KILL…KILL KILL KILL!_

**XXX**

One of Ichigo's hands gripped at Kenpachi's wrist, turning it until he heard snapping sounds.

Kenpachi's eyes opened comically wide before he started howling in agony. He released Ichigo to clutch at his now shattered wrist, the berry's head lowered slightly, his bangs covering his eyes.

"I'm gonna kill you!" Kenpachi screamed, swinging the metal pipe with his uninjured hand.

Ichigo blocked it with one arm, stopping it as if it were a rolled up newspaper.

He lifted his face, his eyes as black as the night sky, "Out. Of my way."

**XXX**

"Wha' the…" Kenpachi trailed off as he watched the black pupils expand, the sclera of the eye turning the same inky black, the kid looking absolutely possessed before his breathing quickened, his tongue snaking out to lick his lips before he cracked his neck, staring at Kenpachi like he was a new toy.

"Hey there," he said, his voice sounding different, a bit deranged, "How 'ya doin'?"

"Renji, what the fuck is this thing?" Kenpachi said, blocking the strawberry's fist with his uninjured hand. He tried to read the kid's collar, but the kid wouldn't stay still long enough for him to guess at what it said.

He was laughing again, a hyena-like cackle that even made Kenpachi's spine tingle, and that wasn't an easy feat.

"Shit," the berry breathed, his voice sounding more focused again, "Leave me alone! Get out!"

Kenpachi took some steps back away from the kid, holding out his metal pipe to keep the berry head back, the pipe keeping him pressed up against the wall as he held his own head, pulling at his own hair. This was the weirdest display of power Kenpachi had ever seen.

"He a hybrid?" Kenpachi wondered aloud as he heard Renji rattle his chains. He was probably done with the Arrancar kitty by now.

"Don't know," Renji said, readjusting his chain-whip death contraption known as Zabimaru, "but we're gonna find out, ne?"

Renji approached the berry while he screamed, still holding his head like it might explode right off of his shoulders, oblivious to the world around him as he fought with himself.

Renji yanked the chain out, wrapping it around the berry's neck before tugging it viciously, forcing the berry to his knees as he gagged at the sudden restraint.

Neither Kenpachi or Renji had ever guessed what would happen next.

The kid was shaking, the chains rattling as he convulsed. He lifted his head, revealing golden pupils dipped in black sclera and opened his mouth in an animalistic shriek, revealing a deep blue tongue. The berry's gorgeous orange hair began to almost drip, seep into a blanch ash color.

Renji kicked him in the side, both intrigued yet terrified of what was going on before him. He'd been in Las Noches for a long time and never had he come across a supernatural being such as the one that was currently writhing on the floor before them.

"Look," Kenpachi grunted, poking at one of the berry's hands with the end of his metal pipe. Blackness seemed to be oozing from the kid's nails, turning them a midnight black as the inky substance continued to crawl thickly up his arms, writhing as if alive.

"_KING_!" the kid bellowed, actually startling Kenpachi and Renji to make them jump. Renji kicked the kid in the face again before wrapping the chains around his neck more securely, forcing him face first into the pavement and straddling him to keep him down.

"What the fuck are you?" Renji grunted, grabbing at the kid's metal neck collar and tugging on it to move it to be able to make out the writing on the other side. VIZARD.

"Jesus Christ," Kenpachi hissed, getting down on his haunches, "Never seen one this fuckin' creepy before. He don't even got a mask yet."

"Ha," the berry said, turning his head to the side so that he could breathe, "_Ha ha ha HA ha HA heehee ho ho oh_ you have _no_ idea."

"What the fuck?" Renji snapped, tugging on the chain and adjusting his body weight so that he could flip the berry over onto his back. Even with his life being threatened and chains wrapped around his neck, the possessed berry's face looked as calm as if he were the one in charge, "What the fuck kinda vizard are you? Aizen know about you yet?"

The berry's blue tongue snaked out to lick at his lips before he grinned, "Ya wanna see it?"

Renji looked over at Kenpachi before turning his attention back to the berry and smacking him as hard across the face as he could.

The kid laughed harder, "Ya wanna see it ya wanna see it?"

Renji was beginning to snap under the taunting tone of the creepy kid although he was surprised to find himself getting hard. He'd always been a freak himself, so having an attractive young man writhing underneath him, all chained up and laughing, actually turned Renji on more than he wanted to admit, "What'cha wanna show me, kid?"

"My mask," he husked, licking his lips again, "but I ain't gonna. Not yet. King won't let me out anymore if I do that."

"Who?" Kenpachi asked, completely at a loss for this, this _thing_ they had decided to get involved with.

"_KING_," he sighed rather happily, wiggling his hips suggestively while Renji groaned above him, "My master, my everything. Without him, I wouldn't exist. He don't know that, though. I've always been inside him, he just don't know how to control me yet. But he will. If he don't, he'll die. _HAHAHAHAHA!_"

The boy continued to laugh quietly to himself as his fingers began to move along Renji's exposed chest, making him groan.

"You're pretty," the kid cooed, tracing the black tattoo work before sinking his nails into the skin hard enough to draw blood.

Renji smiled, exposing all of his teeth before he busted out laughing, "I like this kitty, Kenny! I like 'im a lot!"

"Ya gonna keep 'im?" Kenpachi asked wearily, standing up to his full height to look down at his partner and his newest catch, "What abou' the Arrancar kitty?"

Renji lifted his head and craned it to stare in the place he had left Luppi, "Ah, mah kitty got away."

"Aizen's gonna wanna see 'im," Kenpachi said, nodding towards the berry whose fingers were now tugging at Renji's long crimson locks.

"Yeah yeah," Renji said, beginning to tug at the berry's shirt and exposing his ripped chest. Absolutely delectable, "but not right away, yeah? Gotta fuck 'mah new kitty first."

The berry cackled beneath him, his hands on either side of Renji's face as he licked the side of Renji's face with that long blue tongue, "It's gonna get messy, Red. Real messy."

Renji laughed as he unbuttoned his own tight pants before beginning to unzip the berry's, but before he could expose the boy's cock, he felt the berry's hands on his hair again, tugging it so hard Renji was forced to bring his head up to stare at the freak.

His grin was sexy before Renji felt an explosion of pain behind his eyes and shooting through his skull as the berry rammed his head against his own, making Renji lose balance. Quick as lightening the teen was tugging on his chains, managing to untangle himself while simultaneously grinding his heel into Renji's abdomen, making him shriek in pain. Kenpachi swung his metal pipe but the kid had already moved again, moving with a speed that Kenpachi had only ever seen Arrancar and Soul Reapers do.

"I don't have time to play with you, big boy," the kid cackled before Kenpachi felt himself crumble to his knees. The kid had somehow gotten behind him and latched onto his back like a monkey, pinning his arms around Kenpachi's thick neck and tugging with force to break off his air. Everything was fading as Kenpachi used the last of his strength to try and pry the demon off of him, but it was too late. He fell forward with a thunderous thud as the demon shrieked in delight.

He heard Renji grunt in pain as more kicks were landed to him, Kenpachi's consciousness fading as he heard:

"Tha' name's Shirosaki. Remember it."

**XXX**

Luppi sat huddled in the dripping stairwell of an abandoned complex, trying to hold himself together. He had known it was a bad idea to let Lillynette go that morning, telling her to return to her lazy master. If Lilynette had stayed by his side, there would have been a good chance of the Punishers leaving him alone.

He wiped at his eyes, wondering what had become of 15. He still didn't know the kid's name. And the kid had probably saved his life.

And sacrificed his own in the end. He was probably dead by now.

Luppi wiped at his eyes with his dirty shirt cuffs, wincing when he felt the wet sensation of blood and cum in his ripped pants. He had to clean himself up.

Luppi stiffened, the smell of the berry head processing before he could actually see the teenager.

"15?" he croaked, tensing as he heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairwell, "H-how did you…they didn't…how did you find me?"

Luppi tensed visibly as the berry came into view, his eyes as black as the night sky, the pupils golden slits as he regarded Luppi with a smile and the flick of a blue tongue. Luppi noticed his bright orange hair was marred with splotches of ash white.

"15, what…?"

"So you're the kitty," he said in a voice unfamiliar to Luppi, "I smelled 'ya in the alley and got…curious."

He jumped closer, now balancing himself on his haunches as he peered deep into Luppi's face, Luppi feeling fear creep up his spine. He knew that vizards were powerful, that they had alter egos that tried to possess them if they were inexperienced. Luppi should have asked 15 more questions, gotten more answers. Apparently 15 was a complete novice, unaware of the powers lying dormant inside of him. The darkness, apparently, had come out to play.

"Yer hurt," he said, running a long pale finger along the side of his face. Luppi couldn't help but notice the blackened fingernails and the black splotches along his hands like he had broken an ink bottle on his arms. There was even blood on the side of his face, near his ear, and Luppi could smell the blood and sweat of the Punishers tainting 15.

Luppi shuddered again as 15 licked the side of his face, cleaning a cut Luppi hadn't even been aware of until that moment. He whimpered as the stinging sensation began to work over his skin. He had forgotten how potent the saliva of vizards and hollows were, but it was better than sanitizing alcohol or other first aid.

Luppi began to relax at 15's touch as his hands ran down his chest, his tongue having finished cleaning his face but now he was sniffing along Luppi's body before almost glaring at Luppi, "Yer not clean yet."

Luppi protested as 15 began to pull at his small white shorts, tugging them down before glaring at Luppi and putting a hand roughly on Luppi's erection, "Shut up."

Luppi obeyed although he couldn't help but squeal when 15 moved to a cross-legged position on the floor and lifted Luppi's hips into his lap, spreading his legs to expose the damage Renji had caused while Luppi's upper body now lay on the floor, his hands covering his mouth in embarrassment.

"What'a mess," 15 said with a smile before flicking out that dangerous blue tongue and running it along the exposed and abused entrance.

Luppi's entire body shuddered at the cold sensation, his canines elongating as arousal began to pump through his veins, "N-no, don't…"

**XXX**

Shirosaki completely ignored him as he continued his ministrations, his healing saliva pooling at Luppi's swollen hole before Shirosaki decided to experiment and plunged his long blue tongue into it, making Luppi buck.

Shirosaki twisted his tongue, which earned him a delicious moan from the shaking body in his lap, which was nearly upside down at this point. Shirosaki wrapped one of his cold hands around Luppi's small cock, giving it a few harsh tugs as he continued to fuck him with his tongue. Luppi keened, his toes curling as his face flushed to a brilliant shade of red, his large purple eyes absolutely clouded over in lust.

"N-nah, 15, I'm…"

Shirosaki removed his tongue, jerking Luppi's cock roughly two more times before he heard Luppi scream his release, coating his own slender stomach with warm cum before staring at Shirosaki with confused eyes.

Shirosaki placed a finger in the mess, bringing it to his lips and sucking his finger dry before releasing it with a pop, "Tha' name's Shirosaki. Now, how about you return tha' favor?"

Shirosaki unzipped his pants, pulling out an impressive cock that was already dripping precum. He leaned back on his hands, waiting for the little bitch to get to work.

Luppi sat up before crawling towards Shirosaki on his hands and knees, staring at the gorgeous berry with wide eyes before allowing his small kitten tongue to run along the head.

Less than a minute later Luppi was struggling to swallow his comrade's cock, Shirosaki's fingers tight at the base of his scalp.

Shirosaki laughed. He wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

**XXX**

"I want you to find him and bring him to me," Aizen said smoothly, hands steepled in front of him on the large white marble desk. Everything was white in his world, "Anyone that can manage to bring my Punishers to their knees is of interest to me."

Deep blue eyes regarded Aizen with disinterest. He was no lap dog. Aizen knew this.

"Are you going to defy me again?" Aizen said lazily, hardly sounding like the brutal man that many knew him to be, "Really, Grimmjow, one of these days, I will teach you your rightful place."

Grimmjow simply stared back at him, "You know the rules."

"Yes yes," Aizen said, waving his hand dismissively, "I will honor the code, as I have sworn so. No need to worry. So then everything is in agreement, hm?"

Grimmjow said nothing as he turned from the powerful man and double doors were opened to him by two servants dressed in white ensembles, looking thoroughly soulless and bored.

"And Grimmjow?" Aizen called after him, "will you have him participate in Adjucha?"

Grimmjow allowed his sinister grin to creep over his face, the monster inside of him already thirsty for more blood. This new hunt was something to take his mind off of the mundane and pointless killings he had been doing lately.

It was a new game for the impatient Espada.

"If he survives me."

** And the plot thickens. Review?**

p.s: Togainu no Chi was an inspiration for this story. I want to play it so bad.


	3. Strangers in the Sand

**I apologize profusely for the ridiculously long wait. My Muse is a deceitful, vindictive bitch, but I can't ever leave him (his name is Magnus, Magnus Muse. Has a ring to it, doesn't it?). Hopefully somebody out there is still interested in this story. -TPP**

**The Mala Suerte Chronicles**

Part 3. Strangers in the Sand.

…

_"Don't be scared…_

_I've done this before…_

_show me your teeth."_

_–'Teeth' by Lady Gaga_

…

Grimmjow stood on the high building's edge overlooking the decimated city that was so much like a rotting wound. There was death and decay, but there were smudges of life that refused to give in, refused to be defeated.

Grimmjow knew Aizen was the balance of that precarious power whether he liked it or not.

But he did not want to dwell on the man that he would someday kill. Right now he was stalking prey, or, at least, attempting to do so. Urahara's mysterious shop was just below and a block west, allowing Grimmjow the benefit of seeing but not being seen. His raptor vision was perfect in this pungent darkness, the wind strong this night as it whipped against his body. He had changed into black hakama and a black jacket, Pantera strapped firmly to his back, seeming to purr with energy. He favored his usual white ensemble, but his current choice was much more functional for his current activity. Black gloves covered his hands, stopping just below his elbows.

Grimmjow had always been careful to cover his hands and arms at all times. It was a necessity. Only Gin had ever seen his bare hands, witnessed the destructive power of his natural born 'talent'.

Grimmjow tilted his head to the side as he heard the doors to the nearly deserted supply store creak open and watched a rather tall dark-haired male emerge. Even from this distance, Grimmjow could feel the power of his fellow demon, a man that would be beneficial at this point in locating the new arrival Aizen had found himself so distracted by.

The Punishers had not given much information, simply details of his strange appearance, his collar identification, and a name Kenpachi swore he had heard before passing out on the pavement. Both Punishers were in a frenzy, ready to exact revenge on the brat that had nearly killed them both, but they were still healing in the old governor mansion, Aizen's palace of sorts.

Grimmjow was surprised Aizen had allowed the men to live. After all, Punishers were essential to Adjucha, and if they could not perform their roles as upholders of the rules, of the laws of Adjucha, the entire system fell into chaos.

Not that Grimmjow didn't enjoy chaos, although perhaps it was a little hypocritical considering he was very strict with his own personal code.

It had nothing to do with morals, mind you. Simply a code he had followed his entire life, a code he had come to know almost by instinct. He couldn't remember ever a time in his long life having learned it from anyone, certainly never from someone he cared for.

All he remembered was that he had been born in blood, and he would continue to shed it.

"Ya gonna go make friends?" a whispery voice asked suddenly, Gin materializing in a foggy silver haze as he opened his bright glacier blue eyes to smirk at his comrade. He perched on the building's edge, one foot dangling off the edge aimlessly, swinging it like a child as one arm rested on the other leg's knee. Grimmjow caught the shine of blue stones that were embedded in the lobes of each of his comrade's ears, each about the size of a dime, then the glint of a piece of metal molded to the top of his ear, sealed with a brand, some dead language Grimmjow would never come to know.

Some type of sealing magic.

Grimmjow could relate. Gin's mysterious earring was never removed, just as Grimmjow was careful to never remove his gloves when not completely sure of being alone.

Both men stared down at the high level, familiar demon that was currently yawning on the street, a white gloved hand moving longish, brown locks out of his eyes, revealing bluish grey eyes. He wore black knee-length cargo pants and black boots with a white hooded coat. The man had an easy air about him. To the untrained eye, he looked positively human, maybe even weak, but Grimmjow and Gin knew better.

"Ya sure 'ya wanna talk to 'im?" Gin said, raising a slim eyebrow pierced with two silver balls.

"He's a predator of smell," Grimmjow grunted before dropping off the side of the building and falling the twelve stories without so much as an intake of breath.

Gin followed silently behind him, both of them landing on their feet with a harsh slapping sound of boot meeting concrete, but nothing more. They walked through the shadows confidently, following the wolf demon.

**XXX**

Starrk sighed heavily, his eyes drooping before he stopped in his tracks, too tired for late night rendezvous bullshit with strangers.

He had sensed them as soon as he had left Urahara's shop, which, from the outside, looked like only one of many decimated buildings, but on the inside, it was actually quite cozy, a den-like atmosphere. Starrk went there often to take naps and occasionally eavesdrop on activity in the city, especially in regards to Adjucha.

He would be participating, if only for the hell of it. This place was becoming rather boring. He physically hadn't killed anyone during his stay, his wolves being powerful enough to take down anyone stupid enough to approach him, and Aizen had been amused. Starrk had turned down his generous offer to live in the mansion. Starrk might look docile, but he was a wild being by nature: he couldn't stand the thought of being contained inside a home like a kept dog.

But he needed to focus on the present. He could feel the other demons' reiatsu reaching out, mingling with his, tasting each other, testing each other. Starrk knew one of them was of his kind, the other not necessarily more powerful, but definitely different.

Starrk was now interested, "There a reason you're stalking me?"

"Your wolves," a deep voice replied, making Starrk turn to face his adversaries. In Las Noches, everyone was an adversary and no matter how lazy Starrk was, he knew if he ever wished to nap peacefully, he would have to eliminate the threats first. Sleep was very important to him.

His reaitsu was always dangerously high, therefore, he distributed it amongst his loyal companions, his wolf demons. Technically they were a part of him, but at the same time, not. Lillynette had been born of his soul and was the strongest of his small pack, and if death should ever come to her, his power would weaken exponentially. She was essential to his survival, and he to hers. They were his web, his sense of balance in this world that no longer made any sense.

For a being that had roamed the earth for as long as he had, having even been worshipped in a more ancient time when men feared and respected nature, he didn't understand this new era that only promised more bloodshed.

So, what did these fellow demons want of him if not to kill him?

"My wolves," Starrk replied in a smooth baritone, his eyes traveling over the two demons, reading their collars. Ah, he had heard about these two, the destructive power they were capable of. Both were quite skilled in killing, the blue-haired one merciless in his slayings while the other was said to be more…crafty.

"We were wonderin' if 'ya could help us sniff a 'lil somethin' out," the silver-haired stranger said, opening his eyes for the first time, the glacier blue of them, the depth of them, making Starrk's heart stutter, "An orange-headed newbie with black eyes."

Starrk continued to stare at the unblinking warlock, the vertical slits in his eyes confirming it. Starrk could smell a powerful seal on the demon and it made him only that much more curious, but the blue-haired devil was not to be underplayed by any means. Starrk had lived a long time and was lethargic, but he had always been perceptive, taking in more than most in a short amount of time.

The blue-haired demon's skin smelled different, more poisonous. He wasn't sure exactly what it was, only that he instinctually didn't want the blue demon to touch him.

"What's in it for me…" Starrk drawled, turning his rather ancient eyes onto the collar of the silver-haired demon, "…IG13?"

The silver-haired demon's smile was slow, exposing two rows of blunt white human teeth, "Mah, I thought wolves loved tha' thrill of tha' hunt."

Starrk turned his lips up, amusement apparent in his eyes, "I'm flattered, fox demon, but you'll have to be a little more crafty then that. I'm much older than I look: you can't fool me with pretty, silky words."

"Fox demon by nature, not by name," the demon replied, his eyes hidden in his smirk as he extended his hand, "Ichimaru Gin, high warlock of Seretei."

Starrk stared at the pale, fine-boned hand that had been presented to him, his eyes flickering over the intricate black ink that was undoubtedly magic scripture that decorated the demon's wrists and trailed a single line of text down his forearms before stopping at what looked like suns made out of arrows. He shook the hand firmly, accepting the friendly gesture although not truly trusting either individual yet.

Warlock. So that explained the infinite stink of magic. It was far from unpleasant; soothing, actually. High warlock, indeed. Starrk thought the demon's kind had been erased from the face of the earth centuries ago.

"And you? Do I get a name, or a dog tag number?" Starrk said, looking at the blue-haired demon who currently had his arms folded across his chest.

"Grimmjow," he said lowly, his blue eyes defiant, restless, "the rest is irrelevant."

Starrk chuckled, putting his hands in his own pockets, "I'm Primera, demon god of wolves and the hunt, but I prefer Starrk. Nice to meet you both."

Gin's eyes opened again, "Mah, I've never met a demon god before."

Starrk shrugged, "We keep to ourselves, as your kind once did."

Gin smirked, hiding his eyes once again, "Evolution is a necessary means 'a survival, ne? Besides, cats tend 'ta get along with foxes, right, Grimm?"

Grimmjow glowered at Gin, making Starrk suppress a chuckle. These were by far the two most unique high-level demons he had ever come across. Such a shame he was only meeting them just now. Of course the rumors had run in circles, but Las Noches was a big place, and he hadn't been here more than a handful of months.

Demon gods were not immortal, as he had witnessed Halibel Tia, the demon sea goddess, be murdered when the new zealous government had invaded his home in the remote forests of his homeland far to the north of the country. They had killed many of his sacred wolves and burned nearly all of his once-sacred forest. He did not know when or if he would ever return to that place. Tia had been his half-sister, both of them born of the same powerful demon father.

His lover had been killed in the chaos as well. Despite him being a wolf demon, he had yet to find his true mate, flicking from lover to lover without much purpose. He still thought of his now-dead lover on occasion, but he could already see his interests were being piqued in the delicious-looking silver-haired warlock before him who was currently asking him something, his appealing scent absolutely distracting.

"What was that?" Starrk said, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand.

Grimmjow practically growled, "Your wolves roam all of Las Noches. One of them must have picked up his scent by now. The faster we find him, the faster I can kill him."

"Why would you want to do that?" Starrk said while running a hand through his wavy brown locks, "Orders from Aizen?"

"Aizen wants him alive," Gin said with a shrug and a smirk, "You know if Aizen's interested it's bad news. We don' need him suckin' up any more power. It's time 'fer him 'ta kick the bucket."

"You're going to overthrow Aizen?" Starrk said with a smirk, a new glint in his eyes, "Sounds fun."

"Adjucha is the perfect opportunity to do it. With Aizen dead, the barrier around Las Noches will be broken. We'll be free."

Starrk contemplated what the warlock had just told him so trustingly. Starrk had known about the invisible barrier almost immediately from the beginning. It was an interesting power, to say the least. No wonder the government was keeping him so happy and smug in his riches. The barrier was invisible but potent, allowing anyone in, but no one out. Prisoners wandered in and were never released, not ever.

But Starrk had not known that Aizen held the power to the barrier, or how to remove the barrier and had simply settled down to take a nap and wait it out. He could easily sleep for a century at a time, so he wasn't too concerned. He was nearly immortal, but this new hostile environment didn't allow him that luxury of taking a risk. He was nearly defenseless in sleep, after all, and he wasn't suicidal. He was becoming slowly more and more irritated by the fact that he was constantly fighting, even if most of them didn't present a challenge.

Aizen would simply have to die, then.

He was ready to have his life back, and these demons had offered him a pretty interesting ticket.

"I'll summon them," Starrk said before yawning again, "in the morning. Need more energy."

Gin smirked while Grimmjow scoffed, unbelieving of the demon god's laziness.

_[chapter/end.]_

_..._

**A/N: Back on track! Hallelujah! Alright, next chapter we'll get to the nitty-gritty. And yes, I have plans for some Starrk/Gin, and it's cool if you're not down for that, but I'm doing it anyway, because Starrk and Gin are ridiculously sexy and putting them together was so crack-tastic I just couldn't help myself. Oh, and we'll catch up with Luppi and Shirosaki (or is it Ichigo?) I wonder how Ichigo (or is it Shirosaki?) is going to react to Grimmjow and how Grimmjow is going to react to the berry (or is it albino?) And what the hell is Adjucha? And where's Ulquiorra, the demon god of emo? He's got to be in Las Noches lurking somewhere (I love Ulquiorra, don't hate me). Anyways, hope you're not too pissed at me for the ridiculous wait. Feel free to kick my Muse in the balls, he's not wearing a cup. -TPP**


	4. Desire in the Sand

**The Mala Suerte Chronicles**

Part 4. Desire In The Sand.

…

_"I'll be the one to protect you from all your demons." – A Perfect Circle_

…

Luppi blinked awake, shifting his hips to be more comfortable on the floor. He wasn't ready to wake up yet, but his body stiffened as he realized what was going on.

"Shirosaki," Luppi breathed, his purple pupils dilating with a mixture of desire and fear.

The youth seemed to be changing even more, although his smell was still recognizable. Like burnt out matches.

Physically he looked much more different in color, his hair brilliantly orange, although his skin had paled more significantly, his eyes still dipped in black sclera, the pupils orbs of a startling gold.

Shirosaki licked his top row of teeth, which Luppi could see were still human, although his tongue was still blue.

Luppi gasped as Shirosaki shoved another finger inside of him: so this was what had woken him up, his cock already beginning to harden as Shirosaki rubbed fiercely against his prostate.

"Grah!" Luppi hissed, his nails digging into Shirosaki's shoulders hard enough to draw blood.

"Good mornin', kitty," Shirosaki grinned, running his tongue over a sharp incisor as he stared down at the now-panting and flushed vampire, "Feel better ta'day?"

Luppi mewled as Shirosaki spread Luppi's legs with a snap, entering in the next instant, stretching him so full Luppi listened to his own pleasured scream echo through the abandoned stairwell.

Shirosaki grunted before chuckling, rolling his hips which made Luppi gasp.

"Perfect fit, ne? So tight," Shirosaki practically purred into Luppi's ear, making Luppi's fangs spring to life. His blood felt like it was boiling and he was dying to bite his current lover. He was genuinely enjoying himself, even if this…child…was obviously being possessed by his inner Hollow.

Luppi could work with that. Besides, he was tired of being at Aizen's beck and call, but it had seemed the only option. Aizen had never tried to sleep with him, simply because Aizen believed his power and charm could control the Arrancar.

Luppi was, by nature, a very sexual creature, but Aizen had always given him the creeps, so he'd been careful to be coy around the man. He was a notorious tease, but that's what kept Aizen out of his pants.

In some weird way, it made sense: Aizen needed at least one toy he hadn't fucked into complete submission; a toy he hadn't touched, but knew he could have at any moment. To Aizen, dominance was far more potent then sex.

Luppi screamed again as Shirosaki shifted Luppi onto his side, making it easier for Shirosaki to pump deeper, faster, with the angle.

"Shirosaki, I'm…" Luppi started but couldn't finish, his body suddenly racked with spasms as he came.

Shirosaki practically howled as he pumped faster, his body drawing taught as he released, pulling himself free almost instantly.

Luppi felt absolutely disgusting, but his fangs hadn't gone down yet, and his head was pounding as fiercely as his backside, "Shirosaki…"

Luppi watched Shirosaki sit cross-legged, his cock covered in fluid as he stared at the little vampire, holding up his forearm and, without any preamble, bit into his forearm hard enough to draw blood. He leered at the vampire before licking his lips with that enticing blue tongue, "Come 'ere."

Luppi, sore but knowing his supernatural body was already hurriedly repairing itself, practically shot into Shirosaki's lap, straddling him and licking the bleeding wound.

"Good, yeah?" Shirosaki said with a dark chuckle, letting his little toy feed from him with fervor.

Luppi was fixed to his arm now, enjoying the taste. It was unique, like liquid sun. Luppi felt his eyes roll into the back of his head: if a vampire could be high, this must be what it felt like.

"Seems we've interrupted something."

Shirosaki pulled Luppi's hair hard enough to make Luppi's fangs pop out of his arm, the drugged-out vampire in too much bliss to realize strangers were in their midst.

Shirosaki grinned at the tall brunette male with lazy eyes: he could practically SMELL how powerful this demon was, and it made Shiro's dick jump at the thought of so much power. He'd be fun to kill, if nothing else, "Nah, we just finished. 'Fer now."

Shirosaki pushed the now unconscious Luppi off of him who was apparently comatose from the sex and meal. Shirosaki stood to his full height, completely unashamed of his nakedness as the other demon stared at him, his eyes playful.

"It is very orange," Starrk seemed to say to no one in particular, but Shirosaki cocked his head to the side, his ears picking up a rustling and what sounded like a weapon being drawn, "Sorry about this. I'm sure you're a good kid."

Shirosaki tilted his head the other direction, regarding the powerful demon with a sense of playfulness in his eyes, "Ha, I've never been good a day in mah life. 'Cept King here. He fights me hard, though. I think 'ma time is jus' about up."

Shirosaki watched a stranger step forward who had shockingly silver hair and eyes that were hidden, slanted. He could smell the magic on this one, an old one. Shirosaki was beginning to wonder if it was his lucky day. After all, he didn't wanna kill weaklings.

"Ne, 'ya stink like magic," Shirosaki narrowed his eyes, taking a step backward, growling low in his throat.

"Mah, this was highly unexpected," the silver-haired demon said, tilting his head before opening his glacier eyes fully, the slit pupils making Shirosaki hiss and hunch his shoulders defensively, "Ya stink like death, but'cher aura's too pure."

"He's ancient," Starrk tilted his head slightly, his silver eyes roaming the albino Hollow, "This is no ordinary Hollow; surely no ordinary Vizard."

"Shut up, dog," Shirosaki snarled as he began to place the smells of the demons. The brunette was a mixture of earth, the fertile earth of volcanic land, and wolf. The other silver-haired being was sharper, metallic, like heavy rain, "And you, what are ya? Too strong 'fer a fairy, too pretty too," then his eyes took in the glint of the collar, his teeth gnashing as he read the word, "Warlock? Yer all s'posed 'ta be dead."

Gin's face was unreadable, quite serious, "Yer kind obviously missed a few. If it makes 'ya feel any better, I've killed more than enough of your kind 'ta make up 'fer it."

Shirosaki snorted, "Fuck them. None are like me."

"His arrogance could rival Aizen," Starrk said lowly, huffing a sigh, "Let's wrap this up, shall we?"

The warlock smirked, making Shirosaki's spine tingle, "Wha'd'ya think, Grimm? He could be quite tha' challenge."

"Enough talk," a deep, gruff voice said, launching forward out of the darkness of an upper landing. Shirosaki had been nearly blindsided: he'd been above and behind him during the entire exchange? Shirosaki couldn't help but cackle with mirth as he realized that the first two demons had been smart enough to create a diversion while the other demon attacked quite violently, his sword seeming to screech as it cut against his arm.

Shirosaki launched himself back, landing on the balls of his feet several feet away on a pile of debris. He watched the dark blood sludge out of him slowly, running down his shoulder until it started dripping off the tips of his fingers, "Aw, 'ya guys are cheaterssss."

The blue-haired 'Grimm' nearly disappeared as he flash-stepped, a technique Shirosaki was familiar with.

_Well two could play that game, ne?_

Shirosaki launched himself straight into the air, his fingers gripping a rusty railing of a toppling staircase, throwing himself across the dilapidated space with a speed and grace that seemed to surprise the blue head, but he didn't give up chase.

It was hard to read the blue demon's face: it was like a mask, and Shirosaki fleetingly wondered why his chest was so tight.

"No, King!" Shirosaki growled loudly as he watched black ink start to bleed across his chest and arms, knowing Ichigo was finally gaining enough strength to regain consciousness.

And right in the middle of a fight? So not fair! Shirosaki could kill Ichigo for this, but of course, they shared the same body, and really, he should be happy that his master was gaining enough control and power to take his body back.

Shirosaki's smile was nearly feline in its glee, his eyes wide as the blue-haired demon stopped to watch. He had never seen a Hollow act this way before, and he seemed too curious to kill him just yet.

"Ya have no idea what'cher in for," Shirosaki cackled, his voice echoing in his shrieks. He felt a tugging sensation at the base of his spine, knowing his short romp in the real world was over, "All hail 'ta the King!"

**XXX**

Grimmjow watched the orange-haired Hollow's skin swirl with the black ink that seemed to be alive in his skin, the pigment darkening significantly, the bone-white color disappearing, along with the black sclera of his eyes before Grimmjow watched those sugar brown eyes roll into the back of his skull, the boy collapsing practically at his feet.

His hair seemed even more orange now, an orange that practically glowed. The Vizard's entire body seemed to glow with some kind of force. Not a light, but something that made Grimmjow instinctively desire him, which was strange.

Grimmjow never desired anything but blood.

"Gin," Grimmjow said, sheathing Pantera for the time being, his eyes trailing the naked back of the Vizard, his eyes stopping on the intricate interlaced patterns and unintelligible curves and flicks of what was obviously some kind of language. It wasn't black, not like the ink had been, but more like a golden shine in the skin that could only be seen in light.

Gin approached the unconscious youth, flicking his fingers, a bright, white fire dancing along his fingertips as he looked over the orange head's back, his eyes scanning the designs inlaid in his skin. After several minutes he huffed, "Mah, well well, 'yer not gonna believe this."

Grimmjow could not read most demon scriptures; had not been raised in the proper education that was usually passed down from the heads of the highest demon orders by family.

He had been taught how to shed blood. Reading had never been necessary. He knew most human languages by listening and being keen on sound and pronunciation, but it was rare that he could figure enough of it out on paper.

Unnecessary, unnecessary until this moment, because something in his blood itched at the thought of not understanding that which he wanted to possess.

And he did want to possess this Vizard child, this barely-human child.

"What does it say?" Grimmjow said lowly, holding back a growl as Gin reached out his other hand, his fingers running from right to left as he interpreted the symbols and words.

Gin cast his eyes on his two companions, his eyes exposed, his mouth set in a small smirk, "Accordin' 'ta these, he ain't a Hollow at all."

"All Vizards are part Hollow," Starrk said, arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at the warlock, "Unless…"

"Exac'ly," Gin said with a smirk in Grimmjow's direction, "It was ritualized. Pro'bly when he was born, 'ta protect 'im."

Grimmjow had yet to be three centuries old: his knowledge was extensive of the demon plain, but he wasn't yet grasping what the 900-something warlock and ancient Mesopotamian god were talking about.

"He isn't human at all," Starrk said seriously, "He's a mixed breed, an extremely rare mixed breed. I've only come across a handful in my lifetime, but never one imbued with the destructive protection of a Hollow."

"So tha' annoyin' albino is jus' a nasty guard dog," Gin said, moving across the room to retrieve the youth's clothes and turn the orange head over to begin dressing him, sliding black boxers over his nakedness, "This child is cursed by Heaven itself."

Grimmjow seemed to stiffen at the mention of heaven. Espada were the highest order of demon, direct descendents of the fallen angels of heaven. Somewhere in his line was Lucifer himself, so he was incapable of uttering blessings or the words of god, no matter his name. Kami, God, Jesus, Yahweh, Buddha, all made him uncomfortable.

"To be possessed by a Hollow and regain consciousness…one of his parents is Soul Reaper," Starrk elaborated while Gin finished tidying up the orange head, murmuring spells low under his breath to mend the flesh where Grimmjow had cut him.

"He is Nephilim," Gin finished, smirking at their new discovery, "He's very rare indeed. Not too often tha' an Angel falls fer' a Soul Reaper."

Grimmjow's jaw tightened at the mention of Nephilim and Angel.

"We'll take him to the tomb," Grimmjow decided, his fingers curling at the thought of touching the Vizard. It was as if he was fighting his body: something was drawing him to the cursed being, yet his very demon essence fought vehemently against what should be pure and holy, "I will interrogate him when he wakes."

His arms burned as he continued to think of the Nephilim, of what the boy had been labeled as. Somehow, the Hollow had been enough of a cover to protect him from others discovering his true nature. The humans who had put him in this place had been blinded, and that made Grimmjow smirk.

Aizen was not privy to this information. This Nephilim was now a useful weapon. He supposed the orange boy could live a bit longer.

"What about the Arrancar?" Starrk drawled, drawing their attention to the currently comatose little black-haired vampire.

"Ah, he might be useful," Gin smirked, wandering towards the unconscious vampire. He transformed quickly, Starrk impressed by the large silver fox form. The fox grinned, showing his teeth as he used his tail to lay the vampire as sturdily on his large back as possible.

"He is a nuisance," Grimmjow growled, recognizing the little Arrancar. He was a loyal soldier of Aizen, and Grimmjow would rather see him dead. Not to mention he felt a vicious tug for dominance: after all, the orange head's body had obviously fucked the little brat. Grimmjow snarled at the thought of having competition, even if he had yet to speak to the orange head.

It was strange. Very strange how he had suddenly become so..._attached._

_Mah, Grimm. This child may know a thing or two that we don't. Could come in handy, ne? _

Gin could not speak in this form, but he had developed many spells to allow a kind of telekinesis for communication. Grimm didn't like his comrade being inside his head, though. Apparently Starrk had been privy to the information as well, because he nodded, "True. He knows more about the mansion's layout then any of us. He may prove to be the perfect mole."

Gin nodded his large fox head, his teeth long and needle sharp, his tongue lolling to the side like a dog, _And if he proves unusable, we'll kill 'im. _

Grimmjow nodded, content for the time being.

**XXX**

Ichigo groaned, rolling onto his side, unsure of where he was.

It was cold, but not uncomfortably cold. In fact, the smooth stone surface he was lying on felt wonderful against his heated skin.

"And 'tha Vizard wakes," an unfamiliar voice chuckled, making Ichigo sit up instantly, pain lancing through his shoulder. He gasped and grabbed at it, looking at the skin for any signs of damage. There was an angry pink line, but the pain had been internal.

Then he remembered the blue haired demon being fast, very fast, and cutting him. Deep, too. He could remember the pain, but Shirosaki had only gotten more excited.

Until Ichigo had had enough, had somehow managed to take control of his body again. He shivered, remembering everything he had done but had been unable to stop, like his body had been on autopilot.

Ichigo looked up to see the silver-haired warlock grinning at him, his eyes hidden as several small marble size globes of white-blue light floated around his hands. The warlock lifted one hand, his shiny blue-nailed pointer finger extended. The bustling balls of light followed an invisible trail, dispersing around the small marble-inclosed room, creating a soft light throughout. It wasn't exactly bright, but it wasn't dark, either.

"Where are we?" Ichigo croaked, rubbing the back of his neck. Obviously they had subdued him somehow, although he didn't remember passing out. If they wanted to kill him, they surely would. It wouldn't do any good to try and fight when he could gather information first.

"Safe. Well, as safe as 'ya can get in a place like this," the warlock said, snapping his fingers. The balls of white-blue light flared, becoming brighter so that the entire room was visible. Ichigo shuddered as he realized there had been others in the room. The wolf demon was sitting on...a sealed marble coffin...

Ichigo felt his hands around the slab of marble he was currently sitting on, letting his feet dangle off the edge. He, too, then, had been sleeping on top of a sealed dead person. Fantastic.

Although creepy, he wasn't frightened. Something in his gut told him that the warlock hadn't been lying about safety.

He _did _feel safe: he just didn't know _why._

_"_How long have you been in Las Noches?" a familiar, deep voice intoned. Ichigo swiveled his head to the side, noticing the blue-haired demon. Ichigo shuddered, goosebumps racing across his flesh as he took in the site of the deadly man. He was leaning against one of the smooth walls of the tomb, arms crossed over his wide chest, still dressed in his black gear. His eyes were brighter blue then Ichigo remembered. Ichigo couldn't stop staring at his mouth, even as he repeated himself.

"How _long?" _

Ichigo frowned, "Two, maybe three days. I don't...he was in control for most."

"Shirosaki, the Hollow. He called you King," the wolf demon said, his eyes half-lidded as he regarded the orange head, "I'm sure that's simply a title, or a nickname. What is your true name, little Vizard?"

Little? Ichigo was not little. Young, maybe, compared to these guys, but sure as hell not little, "Kurosaki Ichigo. And you nosy bastards are...?"

Gin snorted, the blue-white lights flickering along with the action, "The name's Ichimaru Gin, High Warlock of Seretei. Well, used 'ta be, anyway, before the Great Banishment, but tha's not importan'. I think we're gonna get along, Ichi-chan."

Ichigo frowned harder, "Don't call me that. I'm not a lil' kid."

The wolf demon chuckled, "Yes, you most certainly are a child, but you're new, still growing. You'll learn how to read auras eventually."

Ichigo looked at the wolf demon skeptically, remembering how excited Shirosaki had been about this demon's power, "You're one of the ancients. Shirosaki wanted to fight you."

"They all do," he replied with a sigh before offering Ichigo a slow smile, "Just call me Starrk. I won't bore you with the official title."

"You're the demon god," Ichigo could practically feel Shirosaki's voice sliding along his own, the excitement of battle still prevalent in his veins. He pushed Shirosaki back, throwing up a wall in his mind, making Shirosaki whine.

_Alright, King. Alright alright, I know I pissed 'ya off._

_Back off, _Ichigo growled internally, not ready for Shirosaki to take his body on another joy ride.

Starrk's eyes were full of mirth, "That would be me. I find it rather...interesting...that you retain your Hollow's memories. Quite the phenomena."

Ichigo swallowed, rubbing at his eyes before sighing, "It was like...I could see everything I was doing, here it, but I couldn't stop it. Shiro was...completely in control, until I built up enough resistance. Somehow I pulled him back."

"So you will learn how to control it," the blue-haired demon said, nearing Ichigo until he was nearly directly in front of him, his face only inches away, "without that control, you are useless to me."

"To _you?" _Ichigo growled, his classic temper flaring. How dare this demon ass hole treat him like an object? "Who the hell do you think you are? I didn't _ask _to come here, ass hole. I don't even know _why _I'm here, and I sure as hell don't know who you are or what your little demon posse want, but I have nothing to do with it."

"Actually, this lil' demon posse is wha's gonna save 'yer ass," Gin said, his face quite serious, his ice blue orbs making Ichigo feel even more cold, "He'll see ya, he'll want'ya, and he'll take 'ya. He'll destroy 'ya, unless we destroy 'im first. 'Yer not the only one who wants out of this hell pit, kid. Ya don't even know what'cha are, what'ch'r capable of. We can train 'ya, show 'ya what'cha really are, and in the end, we'll all be free."

Ichigo didn't want to like the logic, but it wasn't as if he had much to go on. He was alone in this place, accept for Luppi, who, as far as he remembered, could be dead.

"Where's Luppi?" Ichigo asked, breaking the tense atmosphere of the room.

"Restin'. He's alive and well," Gin replied, folding his arms over his chest, "He woke up before 'ya, but we're keepin' ya separated fer' now. We wanted 'ta talk ta' ya in private. Ya can't be givin' 'yer blood 'ta any fuckin' Espada 'ya come across. 'Ya should only spill it if 'yer tryin' 'ta save somebody's life, or heal a wound: it has incredible healin' properties."

"What are you talking about?"

Gin's smirk was starting to get on Ichigo's nerves, "Think back. Ever been 'ta a hospital? Ever gotten sick? When 'ya were little and scraped 'yer knees or fell on the playground didja' ever bleed?"

Ichigo's eyes widened as he tried to think back. He had gotten in a lot of fights in his life, but he'd always walk away with bruises. The few times he'd been cut, his wounds had clotted almost immediately. He'd never needed stitches. His skin never scarred, even if the cuts took days to heal. He'd never thought about it until now. Was that why the government had labeled him a freak and sent him here for now reason?

Did this Aizen guy want to use him as some kind of supernatural bandaid?

"So what you're saying is...I'm a fuckin' _nurse_?" Ichigo said incredulously.

"You're -" the blue-haired demon began, but seemed to cut off, before he could speak again, "You're one of _them. _Of course your blood would have healing properties, but you should have other powers, powers that could possibly destroy the barrier around Las Noches. You're practically a baby right now: Luppi thinks that's why Aizen will hunt you down, want you for his collection."

Ichigo felt extremely uncomfortable at that thought. A little scared, but even more pissed off. Nobody would ever _own _him, "Then let's kill this fucker."

Gin laughed, "Didn' know Angels could curse."

"Angels?" Ichigo said, his memory immediately conjuring up an image of his mother. He'd been very young when she went away. His father never spoke about her. He'd married another woman and had Karin and Yuzu, and Ichigo never asked about it. Strange that his mind should conjure up his gorgeous mom at the mention of the divine.

"Wait," Ichigo gripped at his hair, looking down into his lap for several moments, the other demons motionless, "My mother...so the stories are real?"

"All stories come from somewhere, and somewhere in those stories, there is a fact among the fiction," Starrk said, wondering how this teenager had gone so long without knowing what he truly was, "From what you have just said, I'm going to assume your mother was of the divine, your father a Soul Reaper. It makes the most logical sense, considering your guard dog Hollow."

"How is that possible? How could I not have known? My dad told me Soul Reaper stories all the time growing up, but he's such a fucking idiot..."

"Parents, I've found, can be the most deceptive creatures on the planet," Starrk supplied, which didn't make Ichigo feel that much better.

"So I'm..."

"Nephilim," Gin supplied, before cracking a wide smile that exposed his teeth, "What I find even more interestin' is _who cast the spell to bind you to a Hollow?"_

"Ah, another warlock, then," Starrk said with a wide grin, "I see. If we find the warlock who gave you the Hollow, Ichigo, your aura will be purified. You'll be able to access your true powers."

Gin approached Ichigo, practically pushing Grimmjow out of the way, who snarled at the bodily contact.

"I'm not gonna rape 'im," Gin said with a roll of his eyes, "Seriously, Grimm, relax. After I unravel the enchantment, he's all yours."

"I'm sitting right here," Ichigo reminded them all before glaring daggers at the blue-haired demon, "And what's your name, anyways? Unless you prefer Blue-Haired Bastard?"

Grimmjow leered, making Ichigo's heart skip a beat, "Grimmjow, you weakling. Remember it."

"Alrigh', alrigh', enough," Gin said, placing his hands on either side of Ichigo's head, making Ichigo struggle, "Mah, sit still. This won't hurt a'tal. I'm gonna see if I can crack the spell's signature..."

Ichigo wanted to panic as whispy white smoke began to trail from Gin's fingertips, swirling around his head and bothering his eyes, making his eyes water. But Gin had been true to his word, it didn't hurt.

_"Inda mundi, contra ebsimi abalock," _Gin said quietly, the swirling mist becoming more like tentacles. Ichigo didn't know how to describe it, but it was a strange sensation, like someone was sweeping through his head, through his brain, with gentle, soft feathers. It tickled.

_"Inda mundi, contra ebsimi abalock," _Gin repeated, his slitted eyes closed completely in concentration, _"Abalock, iitsa varashet..."_

Ichigo shuddered, his teeth chattering. He felt cold, extremely cold, cold enough to die. He couldn't speak, simply gasped as the feather sensation in his brain seemed to tug, plucking something free, like the roots of a flower being tugged from the earth.

"Ah," Gin said quietly, the mist retreating into his palm and disappearing into his skin except for what looked like a white shining tendril of hair.

_Pretty cool, but gross_, Ichigo thought.

_King, I can't believe I'm sayin' this, but...I feel VIOLATED._

Ichigo snorted at Shirosaki's lost sense of privacy as Gin grabbed at the shining string with his free hand, dangling it between his pointer finger and thumb, "Very powerful enchantment, indeed. This ain't the work of no lowly warlock. This reeks of craftsmanship, of cunning."

Gin murmured something low in the language Ichigo didn't understand, watching Gin take the strand and brush it across the air, as if he were painting an imaginary canvas.

The light left behind a trail of thin black smoke, revealing a name.

_ULQUIORRA SCHIFFER_

_[chapter/end.]_

**A/N: Alright, I know this chapter was pretty boring, but now I feel like we can get on with the action and the man lovin'. I thought if I did a lot of explaining this chapter, it'd make it easier for me to jump into the relationships because now I think you all have the gist of what all the characters are. Yah, and maybe this chapter was a little more Gin-centric, but I don't give a damn. He's so fucking awesome. And those warlock spell words were made up: I just felt like chanting something that sounded creepy xP (although 'abalock' means 'whore' in Gaelic, HAHA) It's one of my favorite words, so I threw it in there. And who's ready for some Ulquiorra action? I am! I never use him in my stories, so I'm gonna give it a whirl. I think you guys will be surprised with the upcoming chapters to say the least. **

**Meh heh -TPP**


	5. Quick Announcement

Quick Announcement

Hey guys sorry I've dropped off the face of the planet (or so it seems). I'm not even going to bullshit you, I've been working and trying to figure out how to tackle fall since I'm graduating and have to do something with my life now, but I PROMISE I'm not giving up my fan fiction writing. All stories WILL be finished in their own time, so no worries on that battlefront.

Any who, I know you're pissed that this isn't an actual update, but I wanted to get the word out because I forgot to and now it's only in a few weeks, so I wanted to give you guys a head's up in case any of you are in the area.

I'll be hosting a MATURE fanfiction panel called "Perverts Anonymous" at Mizu Con in Miami, Florida. The con is August 17-19, and the panel will be that Saturday night, the 18th. Not sure what time yet, but I'll be at the con, so if any of you guys are near me, please come say hi. I can't wait for the panel: it'll be a really good time. I'll be hosting other panels that weekend too. I know this is the internet and people are spread all over the place, even other countries, but just wanted to share. Check out the official Mizu Con website for more details about who's attending and what's going on: it was my favorite con last year, so I know it's going to be fun.

Thanks guys and I'll be updating soon! I'm going to try my hardest to get as much material out as possible before the fall semester starts as I'll be substitute teaching brats in middle school and high school on top of weaseling my way into grad school, so hold tight! I won't forget about my stories: I know they seem to take forever, but leaving reviews like "update soon" and "you haven't updated in forever are you ever going to finish" only pressures me and makes me go do other things besides write. I'm also working on original short fiction for publication, so please avoid making me grumpy.

Thanks for sticking with me so far. -TPP


End file.
